Kidnapped
by virtualailee
Summary: It started with Uryū and Ichigo's walk to the latter's house as Kon needed repairing. But for one innocent reason which was not of their fault at all, they were targeted by kidnappers, the violent ones in fact.


"Oi, Ishida!"

The caller jogged by a couple of girls to the carbon haired teen with his hand waving high. Ignoring the whisperings of "He bleached his hair…" and "He must be involved in gangs… his _hair…_" which he had gotten pretty well-acquainted with, he proceeded under the enquiring gaze of Ishida Uryū.

"What is it, Kurosaki?"

"Ah," he slowed his pace and stepped lightly to the still figure. "Are you free this afternoon? Can you come over and fix Kon? I must admit it myself, he looks like rubbish. So I was wondering if you can stitch him up as soon as possible."

"I would if he stops complaining of my designs."

Ichigo suddenly remembered the Quincy cross sewed onto the back of the stuffed lion's head. For the sake of friendship, he had dismissed the urge of telling Kon the truth and consequently, the blue "T" motive was still very much a part of the modified soul's body.

"You know I can't guarantee that. And you know his mouth, Ishida. So, what d'you say? How about now? Are you free now?"

Uryū prodded his glasses up his nose, the Quincy bracelet dangling obviously around his wrist between the boys. Too bad, he had purposely reserved the whole afternoon for revision. But he could not say no to a request which needed his expertise in the art of sewing. It had been a while since he fiddled with his kit either. Now that Ichigo had mentioned the "taboo" word – _stitch –_ all of a sudden his knuckles fidgeted with sheer excitement and longing.

Mending Kon took seven minutes at most after all. He could carry out his plans after he got back home anyway.

"Okay. Just make sure he shuts up when I sew."

"Sure, whatever. Let's go."

Ichigo tugged at his navy bag more securely as his companion readjusted the strap slung over his shoulder. They both turned their backs onto Karakura High School, the courtyard and subdued voices of "He'd just recruited genius-boy into his gang…"

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The blazing sun scorched the skin of their exposed necks and scalp as the teenagers trudged noiselessly beneath the ludicrous heat. Ichigo was constantly wiping sweat off his forehead while the other pushed the sliding spectacles up the bridge of his slippery nose. They could not find enough vigour to talk, what more to quarrel, but when they reached the junction, everything went awry, _again._

"Can we use a shaded lane or shortcut?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the orangey haired boy snapped. "There aren't any shortcuts to my place. Geez, is this the first time you've been here?"

Uryū raised his brow.

"What? Have I _ever_ had the need to drop by at your place?"

"This can't be your first time over my place!"

"It is, idiot. You usually bring Kon to school for me to sew, remember?"

"No way! I remember _distinctly _I've brought you here before!"

"Then your pitiable brain capacity must have remembered wrongly. How many times –"

Somewhere around the corner – about a hundred meter away – the thunderous revving of a seemingly huge vehicle tore the air. They both stopped their squabbles and strained for the noise. Even as they did so, the amplitude of roaring engines heightened that the ground below their feet trembled somewhat. The vehicle was accelerating their way, Uryū was sure of it. Unfortunately, the spot where they stood was the driver's blind spot. Should the driver emerge from the corner at such outrageous speed and take a deathly turn at them, they were done for.

Ichigo was still unaware of this fact.

The fairer boy gripped his friend by the elbow and dragged him away from the bend. Looking rather surprised, Ichigo allowed himself to be manhandled for a short distance when he finally yanked his arm from Uryū's grasp.

"What's that for?"

"Shh…"

"What?"

"Keep quiet, Kurosaki. Something doesn't feel right."

The booming din approached. There was a hoarse growl and a sharp screech as the driver stepped harshly on the brake. When friction on the road took effect, the tyres stopped whirling and switched their course. The bonnet came into view, followed by the grey-coated body and a heavily tinted windscreen. It was a van. Vans were very normal if they were driven on road, but when the van gained momentum within a short exchange of gears and charged threateningly at the appalled boys like a bull towards the gallant matador, it spelt a whole new situation altogether.

It spelt trouble.

"Run."

They took an uncertain step back.

"Run!"

The vehicle was very close now. They could even smell the exhaust fumes it emitted.

"RUN!"

Their minds warped. Their nerves cracked. But that yelp collected some senses and their lead-like legs spun around to carry their owners away from peril. The oncoming van was coming hard on them deliberately – they were certain of it. It did not swerve into the other lane which would eventually lead it out to town. And then there was the fact that it kept slowing down when the boys were too close and floored the acceleration pedal when there was ample distance in between. It was a game of tag.

"Ishida! Do something!"

The dark haired teen glanced agitatedly across his shoulder. It was clear that their pursuer was not giving up, whatever his motives were.

"Hold on tight!"

He extended his arm – which was caught by Ichigo – and readied himself for a ride on reiryoku to transport themselves out of harm's way. Just as he had collected sufficient spirit particles to execute hirenkyaku, the van took a mighty veer and halted abruptly in front of them. Tiny particles and debris swirled viciously in the air as several doors slid open to the tapping of leather boots on the tarred road. Ichigo peered into the dust. Amidst the disturbance, he could make out the vague outlines of roughly five thugs with baseball bats swinging in their hands. Slowly, one by one materialized and sneered unpleasantly at their preys. The boys turned to chance an escape via the other lane but cancelled the option when another van blocked the exit. Additionally, a trio of brutes was strutting behind them, their teeth bared like a female pug guarding her puppies.

They were trapped like rats in a maze.

They did not realize when their backs met with each other's or when the gangsters formed a tight circle around them. Some were wielding chains while a couple more were equipped with batons. Ichigo raked his brain for memories of upsetting any mafia syndicates or underground organisations within the past few days. Or rather, did he offend some street bloke two weeks ago? But he was sure he kept his nose clean lately…

"Ishida, why did you get yourself involved in these troublesome affairs?"

"What? You're the one who got us caught in this mess the first place!"

"No I'm not!"

"TOO MUCH TALKING!"

They twisted their necks in sync to face a snarling man with hairy biceps. He appeared to be the most ferocious of them all, what with a golden tooth encrusted between his rusty ones and a large dragon tattoo displayed on his naked chest. The vest which hung loosely over his top carried vulgar messages and symbols. With a last smirk, he took his thick club out and loomed dangerously before the boys.

"Seize them."

A dozen men pelted forward, narrowing the radius around the teens. Ichigo was prepared for this. But as geared up as he was, he could not help sensing a slight shudder from the other person's back on his. Uryū, possibly the most civilized one in class, had _never _been dumped into such dire situation. He, on the other hand, had been wrestling thugs since the day he learnt the ABC in school. With all the experiences he had accumulated, he had complete confidence in bashing the slimes till they could not walk back home straight.

Uryū had become a burden.

"Tsk, Ishida, stay back and get out of here as soon as I clear the ones on your left all right!"

Much to his chagrin, the vision-impaired boy broke into a solid stance akin to a jujutsu apprentice's. He was no longer shaking. Every fibre of his soul reverberate an aura of resoluteness that for a split second, Ichigo thought he was merely flaring his reiatsu to summon help from someone spiritually aware. But Uryū was not. He was taking this head on.

"Don't be a bother, Kurosaki."

"Heh, I should be saying that. There are plenty of them for us anyway."

"Help yourself then!"

The fairer of the two swung his fist heavily into the nearest jaw he could see and with a spin on his toes, he lifted his leg and spiraled his heel into three unsuspecting forms. Ichigo was occupying himself with a couple of men. He landed a torrent of punches at one with a particularly bushy moustache and aimed a random kick at his sidekick. And soon, the evening was thick with groans and supposedly cracking of bones as the youths fought for their safety relentlessly. But no matter how hard they strike, the number of assailants did not decline. When they fell, someone would always be there to fill in their gaps. And when the substitutes fell, the earlier cohorts would then re-join the fight. It was beginning to resemble a never-ending story, one which was highly unlikely for the prey to see it finished.

_Haah… hah… hah… haah…_

"Damn…"

They returned to the middle, backs slammed against each other. Panting furiously, they eyed the slightly ruffled gangsters and braced themselves for another bout of clash. Uryū flexed his fist when the "leader" cracked his knuckles idly and strode towards the breathless youngsters.

"Done? When will you ever realise that you're already finished when we had you cornered in the first place? Ah well," without warning, he clamped his coarse fingers around their necks, successfully squeezing out what little wind was left in their larynx, "it'll only make the job easier."

His grip tightened before he flung the bodies effortlessly to opposite sides into the walls. Two bodies rammed hard into the bricks before thudding dully on the ground. And like how ants are attracted to sugar, the bunch of ruffians encircled the fatigued figures, tying their limbs so tightly with jut ropes and stuffing rags into their mouths. Within seconds, the helpless victims of what seemed to be a carefully planned abduction were hauled into the van, escorted by a deafening laughter of triumph and utter silence soon after.

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"Boys, put them down!"

Ichigo assumed that "put them down" actually meant "throw them on the dirty floor" and judging by the impact when his bottom made contact with an extremely dusty surface, he knew he was right. Another mass dropped awkwardly by his side. When his blindfold was yanked free, he blinked in the sudden brightness and squinted in the space to search for his friend. Apparently both were trying to detect each other's whereabouts.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," the other breathed, "you?"

A rupture of sniggers brought their attention back to the onlookers. Half of the men were missing but the tough looking guy with dragon body tattoo was still in the vicinity. He squatted in front of Ichigo and leered sardonically.

"Whoa, look boys! Isn't this _sweet_?" He wrung his hands above his head and mimicked Ichigo's few words in a pitch so high like a hysterical little girl. "_Are you okay, my sweet pumpkin pie? Did the big bad wolf hurt you just now?"_

His minions howled disdainfully.

Ichigo lunged forward with fiery eyes. If he could suppress his wrath, he would but the fact that they were brought in here without anyone's obligation and being insulted for no reasons at all just sparked his anger. The black haired boy hissed for Ichigo's waning patience which only extracted more laughter from the crowd.

"And he's right kid."

The man fisted Ichigo's collar and hoisted the teen closer to his rancid breath.

"Manners, kid, or I swear you won't see the daylight."

With that, he shoved the boy back to his initial position by their second hostage and studied their contempt-laced features. He looked from one to another before shuffling back to the carroty bristles and their owner's profile. Everything went eerily quiet for a second when the man straightened up and peered down at his catch.

"So, which one of you is Ishida Uryū?" he demanded steely.

They were astounded to hear the specific enquiry for the name yet were none too keen to reveal which one of them was called "Ishida Uryū". The wooden door creaked open and in came another lank guy who whispered something with utmost secrecy. The one who questioned the identity of the boy nodded solemnly and after obtaining all information from the newcomer, the tattooed man averted his reproachful eyes onto the high school students once again.

"One of you has a father by the name of Kurosaki Isshin who operates the Kurosaki Clinic which double as your house. The other's father is Ishida Ryūken, currently rightful director of Karakura Hospital."

He let his eyes strayed across their sharp features.

"Hn. Doctors' kids. I _hate _doctors' kids."

He fished out a penknife and fiddled with it between his thumb and index finger. The cold metal glinted under crude illumination offered by the lone bulb.

"Which one of you belongs to that Ishida fella?"

"Bite me."

SLAP!

Ichigo fell sideways at the force on his cheek. The stinging sensation lingered for a while before it came in bites. He did not even wince. He was not going to allow satisfaction to that bastard for that blow. The gang could beat him silly for all he cared but no, he would not make a single noise to the last draw of breath.

"Manners, kid, _manners._"

"Boss, I think it's the nerdy kid."

"What now?"

"I heard the orange-head called him Ishida before the fight."

The leader raised a brow at Uryū. The latter returned an equally venomous glare through the lenses of his spectacles. To his shock, the leader's crooked lips arched into an evil grin.

"Yup, I thought so too. Welcome, Ishida-kun. Say, your daddy must have made tons of money in a day, being a hospital director and all. D'you think he'll donate some of his property to us… in return for his precious only child?"

"I have no ties whatsoever with that man."

"Oh?"

The leader beckoned two of his underlings nearer to the form on the floor.

"So do you want to check whether he loves you or not, Ishida-kun?"

There was not sufficient time to address the question. Someone's foot dug deep into his middle, throwing him off onto his sides. Another kick found its way to the base of his spine. He was deprived of means to protect himself against the rage. With his arms tied to the back, he was completely vulnerable to random hits. The men were not easing up on him either. Their aims graduated rapidly into aggressive stomping; his lower abdomen and appendix became their easy target. What a lesser thing to do, to whack an unarmed person like a sack of potatoes. They were beating away his senses. With each impact, his body cringed unwillingly and his lungs became void of much needed air. Short intakes of oxygen somehow morphed into strangled cries of agony. Three meters away, Ichigo watched in terror at his companion's predicament. His every groan and sharp cry of pain jabbed mercilessly into his ears, and each moan was muffled by another kick in the stomach.

"Stop…"

He glimpsed upon Uryū's contorted visage at the violent encounter of leather boots.

"Stop it! Stop IT!"

"Shut up kid!"

The leader grabbed a fistful of Ichigo's hair and forced the boy to witness the progress.

"And watch!"

Two more thrusts of their legs and the beaten up form was no longer making a noise. They ceased their attacks and stood limply by the side. Several flashes of bright light beamed onto the still outline and the sound of negatives whirling buzzed in the dense air. Ichigo held his breath. He thought he heard blurry orders of developing the films but he could not care less. His vision was intent on the boy lying with his back facing him.

"Yosh! Let's report this to the head and we'll see what sum we'll get!"

The leader relinquished his grip on Ichigo's hair and proceeded out of the room. The rest of his followers followed suit and marched through the door without sparing another thought on their captives.

Ichigo could not find the whim to move.

The last one switched off the light and the room basked under the shadows. The setting sun provided little lighting through the stained window panes so that all the orange haired boy could see was a sliver of his classmate's arms. When the door snapped shut, he called out his name.

"Ishida?"

It went unnoticed.

"Ishida, are you listening to me?"

All four appendages bound, Ichigo projected his hips outward and hauled the rest of his legs forward in his attempt to move closer to the other dweller of the room. With great difficulty and hard work, he finally got his self right beside Uryū. A slight rise of the latter's chest eased his breathing. At least he knew they had not trampled on the body to death.

"Hey, Ishida, can you hear me?"

He made to turn the form to lie on its back.

"No," a raspy voice escaped Uryū's parched lips. "Don't – don't touch me."

"You okay?"

"Do I – look okay to – unh…"

Ichigo hated feeling helpless. He could not help him. It only made his retention here in the middle of nowhere even more unbearable. It took the raven haired boy a couple of minutes to fall into a state of mixed unconsciousness and sleep and then, all he was left with were the chilly night and nasty feelings of what tomorrow would promise.

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CLANG!

Two boys aroused nastily from their dreamless catnap. They pried their eyes open as another booming crash rocked the dusty tiles.

TANG!

"Stupid wretch! Can't you carry a tray without spilling the food? Out! I said OUT! One more accident and I'll have you lick this place clean!"

The boys raised their sore bodies up from the ground. Dust was propelling high in the air again due to the kidnapper's sudden outburst of temper that he threw the folded table onto the wall. A cowering figure was standing timidly by the smithereens – it was as though the table missed the target deliberately – and he scurried to the exit when he was dismissed. Sun ray cascaded properly into the space. So it had to be morning already.

Had nobody noticed their miss yet?

"Thirty thousand… no, too little… one million… nah, not enough for the boys… three million then… hmm…"

He flicked an uninterested eye at the captives and did a double take when the pair was already up, sitting quite steadily with their eyes fixed on him. Pushing the papers sprawled on the messy wooden desk, he turned to study the boys.

"Hn… just writing a letter to your daddies. They might want to know where their children are."

Uryū snorted, much to Ichigo and the leader's surprise.

"You can try. He's not going to pay a single yen for me."

"Well, we'll never know if we don't try eh?"

He stood up and walked over to the defiant looking boys. Ichigo's expression did not waver as the man leaned over to him. Gripping the shoulder with his grimy palms, he inserted his hand into the school trousers' back pocket and ransacked the content for an ID card.

He smiled triumphantly at the slightly bent piece of laminated cardboard.

"Hah, house address. And you," he stared piercingly at Uryū, "I shall direct my ransom letter to the hospital. Then we'll see," he squeezed the black haired boy's cheeks coarsely between a thick thumb and four other fingers, "whether Dr. Ishida cares for you or not, okay?"

He laughed mirthlessly.

"Oh, and shall I take this, Kurosaki-kun? It looks valuable."

Tauntingly, he waved a bronze plaque adorned with a skillfully carved skull motive before Ichigo's livid pupils. He knew he had hit the jackpot. The plaque must have worth something for such vivid response. He flipped it back to front and scrutinized the edges, and no matter how he looked at it from different dimensions, the piece was still as appealing as trash.

_How can he see it?_

"Give it back!"

He toyed with it, knowing full well that the item was beyond the boy's reach with his hands twisted to the back. He just loved being a bully. He enjoyed watching the desperation etched on his face and the combustion of flame in his hazel eyes.

Wait until he transformed into a true _sadist…_

"Come on, I'm only asking for thirty million from your fathers. Not much, right? This can be considered as charity. The boys here really need the money."

He cackled maniacally again. When they deadened, he donned the animalistic mask with a distinct smirk, surveying his prey with brutal wanting.

"If they don't pay, _you_ will."

Ichigo was the least worried of himself. The leader was not joking. There was not a shred of humanity in that physical container of his sinful soul. He was in no doubt that he would make them suffer should their parents deny their "requests". Thirty million… his father might not have enough. But worst come to worst, he would just grit his teeth and put up with whatever hell they might want to put him through. He had been punched, kicked, pushed and jostled on sand. His shinigami activities only strengthen his stamina and endurance in rough situations. The thing was, he had never known of _another _living Ishida other than the one by his side. He wondered why the guy had been living alone at a young age, but again, there was always a probability that his old man was already not in the living realm. Orihime and Sado lived by themselves too. Now all of the sudden (or rather, yesterday), the name _Ishida Ryūken _drifted across. This was definitely news to him.

The door snapped and the knob clicked. They were left alone in the dingy room again.

"I didn't know your father is still around."

Uryū stirred somewhat in his place, trying to settle in a more comfort niche albeit being roped like a hog on a skewer.

"Does it matter if he was still here or not?"

There would be laceration on his wrist come evening later.

"Of course it does! He can bail you out!"

"Hn, I wonder?"

"Don't be an idiot. He can't just let his son die here!"

"He will."

Uryū let his sapphire eyes skimmed the lining of the walls. "He will leave me here to die."

Once again, Ichigo was smacked with icy, hard truth. Surely no fathers in this world are that cold hearted. The dull blue eyes were misty, he saw. Was Ishida Ryūken really that callous? Then was he the one who chuck his son out of his roof? Did he ever enquire of his son's welfare?

Nosy. That was what he would be if he ever opened his mouth for more questions.

"Ah… who knows, you might not die here alone you know. That old man of mine is an idiot when it comes to managing money. He might not be able to pay the ransom and would probably turn to some loan sharks or something… either way, I'm already doomed –"

"Don't pity me."

"I don't –"

"Kurosaki, listen." The atmosphere dimmed with Uryū's mounting seriousness. "Save yourself when there's the opportunity to do so. Leave me here if you have to. Then, go get some help or whatever. Just – just leave when you get the chance. Do you understand that, Kurosaki?"

They stared daggers at each other.

_Who do you think you are, Ishida?_

"I'm not going to leave –"

"You don't understand the circumstances here, Kurosaki! Do you seriously think we're on a holiday of some sorts? You have a better chance of survival than me." He dropped his voice. "You are a _shinigami_. I exist in this human form. You can flash step yourself out of here unnoticed."

"Then in case you don't know, that spiritually aware dude just took my shinigami plaque with him."

"I know."

He looked away. A passing of dread floated but he quickly masquerade it with a dismal smile.

"I'll try to get the plaque back. I'll be in closer proximity to them than you anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll get it back."

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Night falls. An orchestra of crickets held their routine majestic performance among the blades of green grass out of the dilapidated hut where a gang of kidnappers assumed as their lair. They had been cautious enough not to feed the kidnapped teens and only allowed them a cup of water in the afternoon to prolong their lives. Toilet trips were unnecessary to them. Ichigo actually demanded for one and after receiving a slap and an extremely vulgar gesture, he was brought there grudgingly by a blonde punk.

Slightly bruised on the façade, Ichigo settled himself by his friend when he returned to the room. Tonight, a middle-aged man with bridge piercing stood guard in the chamber. So the boys carefully tuned down their voices as they conversed in his wake.

"I heard they've mailed the letters. They should reach them by tomorrow morning."

"How do they contact these people?"

"Not sure. They'll call our parents I guess. Can't you come up with something, Ishida?"

"There's a way but it's not practical."

"We'll chance it."

"Raise our reiatsu. Hopefully Inoue-san or Sado-kun can detect it –"

CLINK!

The guard smashed his bottle of beer onto the ground and got to his feet in a tyrannical manner. His beady eyes were hidden behind sunken sockets while his alcoholic breath permeated what space surrounding the trio. All discussion ceased at this abrupt interjection and when the guard strode over, bringing his plank chair with him, the boys had to tilt their heads upward to see the beastly features.

"I've said… talkin' isn't allowed… haven't I?" he slurred in his speech.

Swaying in his pose, he bended over Uryū.

"Or are ye so much of a thick skulled worm that simple instructions can't penetrate into? Ye know, we did some checking on yer backgrounds, just ter see how much yer bastards are worth. And ye, smarty pants, just have to be the brilliant one in school eh? Top in class an' all…"

He hiccoughed.

"Ye should know, when we get the money, ye get ter walk free. Win-win situation, isn't it? And it's because of ye rich bastards with big houses an' cars an' wallets thick with cash… yer the fault, ye know that? YE KNOW THAT?"

Uryū merely glared at the empty sockets.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YE LOOKIN' AT, YOU SLIMY BAS –"

He swung his chair with all his might above his head and was about to bring it crashing to the boy's cranium. It was coming down. He could see it. He could see the fuzzy outline of the wood as the furniture raced through the air. It was inches above _his _head.

He could not move.

PRAK!

Darkness claimed his vision as he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a rush of wind on his exposed face. It was over.

His life was over.

Was it?

"Heh, still need someone to cover your back eh," a restrained voice whispered, "_Ishida?_"

Chunks of broken wood fell under the influence of gravity.

Unkempt orange spikes brushed against his forehead. Uryū caught heavy breathings drawn laboriously between the lips and a trickle of blood flowing from a wound on his scalp. It was staining his white collar. Ichigo knelt before Uryū, his head bowed low as he constantly reminded his body not to tip over and to retain some balance. _Just for a while more… _

Splinters and sawdust littered on his back where the chair had landed.

"Tsch…"

The man kicked the table to vent off extra steam and headed for the door. The moment he left, Uryū started reprimanding his rashness.

"Why the hell did you charge in between us? Do you want to die so badly?"

Panting, Ichigo raised his head a fraction and switched to the grin he usually put on when he was glad his friends were all right. He had this grin on when Sado and Orihime recuperated from their injuries. He had this grin on when Yuzu chortled at the band aid he plastered on a small cut on her knee. He had this grin on when Rukia was no longer under any execution orders.

Now "Ishida the idiot" was okay too.

"Ah, perhaps."

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"_One, two – HUT! One, two – HUT!"_

_Fifteen children aged ranging from three to seven years old punched and kicked their limbs in the air energetically. A vivid orange-headed child deeply in concentration was spotted almost immediately from the sea of dark-haired toddlers. Their instructor, a pretty but sternly looking lady of mid-thirty was shouting orders and numbers to keep the tempo running. Her hawk eyes scanned the students as they proceeded on little feet._

"_Okay! Enough practicing! Pair up kids! Let's have a mock tournament among ourselves shall we? Oi, where are you going? Kurosaki!"_

_A little boy froze in his steps. _

"_Eh… can I go to the toilet, sensei?"_

"_No. Tatsuki, come over here! Kurosaki, fight her."_

_The boy looked as though Christmas had been cancelled._

"_Can I fight someone else, sensei?"_

"_No," she said mechanically, dragging the boy to the tatami. "Okay, ready? One, two, start!"_

GHUH!

_The two figures revolved slowly on the tatami, one looked resolutely focused on beating the adversary while the other looked plainly scared. When the girl took a leap forward, the other retreat a pace at the opposite direction. And when she directed her fist at him, he dodged it albeit somewhat fragilely._

GUH!

_The battle ended after two minutes. Tatsuki had cobbled the boy on his head and the latter had begun to cry. Their sensei had to force the girl from continuing her bashing – after all, their parents had arrived to pick their children up. If that mother of Kurosaki-kun witnessed what she had put the boy through, she would have to shut the dojo for introducing traumatic lessons to young minds._

UGH!

_Who the heck is making that din anyway?_

His eyes snapped open. The first thing which greeted his eyes was the door. He did not know why the door enticed him. Or at least he thought his subconscious self was faintly attracted to the door. That was when he heard the sound of whip lashing on metal and the crashing of something bulky on a pile of wooden crates. He thought he had simply imagined that noises. It certainly was rough out there.

"Ishida, wake up. Something's not right out there."

He turned to prod the boy from his sleep.

"Oi, Ishi –"

He was all alone.

The door swung open and a mangled mass was flung ruthlessly onto the ground. It skidded before coming to a halt, leaving behind a trail of dark, crimson substances. Ichigo got up to his knees. Before he was locked up once again in the confinement, he caught bits of evil laughter of amusement from the other side of the four walls. These only kindle the surge of wrath within. But all flows of curses and swearing came to an end when the form started hacking and twitching against its restrictions.

"You –"

Ichigo looked on as it convulsed. Then abruptly, it tensed when it started retching on the cemented land. A chink of the metal Quincy bracelet confirmed the watching teen's worst expectation.

"Ishida!"

The lying boy let out an almost inaudible gurgle before spitting into the puddle of mess in front of him. He had no idea… _he had no idea…_

"Hang on, Ishida!"

He was unaware of anything. They were giving him exactly what he thought – no, _knew – _was coming for him. They would separate him from Ichigo, and what better way they had than to bring him out when the other prisoner was sleeping. They had clamped his mouth shut and towed him to the hall. So thus far, things were going his ways though he did not quite anticipate the next idea, which proved to be correct after all. Beastly creatures are so easily predictable. They had walloped him all over; only this time, they had invested in baseball bats and a cane. They had wanted to force him to scream, but he would not. He was as sure as hell that his screaming would not even move his father to come rescue his kidnapped son. He knew. And he told the people there. But they would not listen, just as he thought. He tried searching for Ichigo's shinigami plaque but to no avail – he could hardly keep his sanity intact when the last thrashing from the bats broke his ribs. Hazy and delirious, he thought he felt his side grazed the sharp edges of window panes. Then he thought they had switched the lights off. But then, afterwards he was really back in the dark room where he was detained in with Ichigo.

He thought he heard Ichigo somewhere around… _thought… _did he only presume all of these?

"Oi, don't sleep. No, Ishida! Listen to me! If you sleep, you'll really be gone! Wake up you idiot!"

"Sorry…"

He winced sharply, fresh line of blood flowed down from his slightly parted lips.

"Tried to – get your plaque – your father is coming – stay alive, Kuro – saki –"

Ichigo frowned. It was a jumble of feelings brimming up to his throat and he did not like the mixture of them. He was sick at the state of Uryū's physical structure – the side of his shirt was torn and ghastly scarlet stickiness shone horrendously from the gash, his face was bruised and so were other parts of his upper body, and streaks of angry welts marked his arms.

"Don't sleep. Don't sleep, you hear me! You're not going to awake if you sleep now so don't you fall asleep. Ishida!"

The injured boy's eyes fluttered threateningly and his vision zoomed in and out of focus. He was going to be lost.

Ichigo swallowed hard. Uryū could not hold on any longer with extensive wounds in and out his systems. He must be taken away. There was only one way to save this boy. He hated it, but it could be the only way. He had to risk it.

Ichigo drew a deep breath, held it momentarily in his lungs and –

"HOI, YOU BASTARDS! GET IN HERE!" he yelled heatedly at the top of his voice. "I SAID, GET IN HERE!"

There was a shuffle of footsteps outside the door. The knob clicked for the second time this morning and three tall men entered the room. Ichigo recognized one of them as the leader who brought them here in the first place. The latter surveyed Uryū uninterestedly and shifted his attention to the kneeling boy.

"Hey, haven't I told you not to overdo it?" he said, more to his underling than to Ichigo.

"It was just a bit of beatings," one of them defended.

"A bit? A BIT?" Ichigo roared. He made to get up but his crammed knees from kneeling too long and blocked blood circulation caused him to almost tumble all over the lying boy before him. He caught himself in the nick of time and glared at the kidnappers again. "You're going to kill him! You better get him to the hospital NOW!"

"Tsk, kid, is that how you speak when you ask someone for a favour?"

"Hn, this kid isn't going to die soon, boss," the one who stood at the back hissed. Languidly, he bended over the boy and seized him brusquely by the damp collar. "And so what if he does, boss? Your daddy doesn't love you, kid."

The next thing Ichigo knew, the man drove a knee sharply into Uryū's abdomen – a jagged cry elicited from his throat and more blood spluttered on the man's forearm. Uryū's head fell limply onto his chest and by the time he was cast aside to the walls, Ichigo could tell he had already passed out.

"You bastard…"

"Manners, kid, or I'll make _him_," the leader nodded briskly at Uryū, "_pay_."

Ichigo held his tongue. But the leader did not seem to want to know whether he had finally stopped his retaliation or would go on hurling offensive words at him. Instead, he stroked his stubbles casually and eyed the silent boy before the trio.

"We've received replies from your parent. Your father has been very cooperative. He said he'd give us the money provided he was sure that it's you we've kidnapped. I sent your worthless little trinket to him yesterday with the letter. So, we'll just have to see whether your father is a man of his word when he said 'money doesn't matter, my son does'. It's just so sad then that the boy over there really did say the truth. Turns out Ishida Ryūken doesn't even care for his safety," he sighed dramatically, "The pictures we sent were failures. What a nag, kidnapping something not worth anything, tsk."

They ambled out of the room, chatting as though nothing had really happened within the past few minutes. How could they ignore the fading pulse of Uryū's reiatsu?

Ishida Ryūken was not paying for his son, and his son was paying for it.

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It was their second night here. This was Ichigo's second prayer to the Gods in this room that they would be able to walk away alive. He wondered whether it was going to be a wet night. The orchestra of crickets was replaced by numerous croaking of lake frogs and toads. Then he wondered whether the temperature would drop when it really rained.

"You know, even though Inoue loves to cook crazy stuff in her kitchen and offer them to Chad and me, we haven't really sampled any of them at all. Usually, Keigo would drag us away or Chizuru would come over and interrupt us. Good thing, eh?" Ichigo drawled. "I saw her offered her bun to you. I thought of dragging you to the roof top but you actually accepted her food and ate it like it was nothing. All of us were toasting to your health at the roof top."

He chuckled softly.

"Mizuiro swore he heard you throwing up in the washroom though. Always acting tough eh, Ishida?"

He inclined his head to the crumpled figure on the floor inches from him.

"I know you're listening to me. And that's all right. I'll just keep on talking. You make sure you don't just go off like that. What am I going to tell Inoue and Chad? And Urahara?"

Uryū showed no sign of hearing his friend's babblings. His eyes were closed stubbornly and the frugal breaths were drowned by the sound of nature. Ichigo shifted his eyes to the ceilings.

"Renji told me Urahara helped you stole stuff from your dad's…"

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Sleepy grunts and loud snoring penetrated the thin walls which divided their cell and the hall. When he strained his ears for footsteps on the floor, he heard none. And through the gap between the door and the ground, there was no light seeping from the opening. Was everyone asleep already? Or was this just a set up? It was downright careless and tactless for _all _of them to doze off at precisely the same moment.

But if it was true, luck was certainly smiling on his side.

Ichigo unclenched his fist to reveal a shard of glass which he had cleverly saved after the kidnapper's haste only one day ago. He held it tightly between his fingers and started working the edge up and down the rope binding his arms together. _Up, down, up, down…_

"Come on…"

_Up, down, up, down…_

A strand broke off, followed by the second… then the third…

"Come _on!_"

He had not the time for this. _Up, down, up, down…_

Uryū started shivering. Ichigo quickened the pace, not bothering whether the glass would cut his skin or not. All these superficial scratches did not matter anymore. He would get the boy straight to the hospital once they had grass under his soles. They were wasting precious seconds here!

It snapped. Ichigo straightened his very stiff arms and massaged the joints to ease his clogged blood flow. Uryū shivered again. Hurriedly, Ichigo undid his knots and brought him up to his laps.

"Ishida."

His slapdash hand ran over the wound on Uryū's side, causing him to shudder involuntarily at the contact. Ichigo, upon noticing wet blood on his palm, inspected the slash more seriously.

"You're still bleeding!"

_Cloth! Cloth! Where can I get – _

As though someone had just switched on a bulb above his head, Ichigo searched for a piece of handkerchief he knew would definitely be in Uryū's back pocket and pressed it lightly on the open cut. Hopefully, it would stem the flow. At the same time, he hoped the handkerchief was hygienic – let's hope the idiot had not wiped his snot in it – or infection would settle and then, another big issue would creep up. But that could wait. This was not the time for what-ifs-and-nots.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Ichigo murmured, "There's a low window here. I'll just remove the panes and –"

A bloody hand grasped his wrist and jerked it weakly. The orange headed boy was evidently taken aback by this and paused at his words.

"What did I – told you Kuro – saki…"

His grip tightened as he tried to get his point across. He must let Ichigo understand the situation. This was not a risk worth taking.

"Leave me – save yourself."

"Idiot, I'm not going to leave you with them bastards! So stop talking and come _on!"_

"No – Kurosaki, I can barely –"

Ichigo tugged firmly at his friend's shoulder and attempted to heave him on his shoulder. Sensing this, Uryū scratched the wrist as hard as he could with blunt fingernails. He willed himself to pry his lids wider and shot a deadly stare at the concerned hazel orbs.

"Don't be stupid. I said – _leave."_

He pushed the hand away from his body. "Go!"

For a fragment of time, Ichigo went completely blank in the mind. Then he knew what he must do. He lowered Uryū on the floor again and crept to the window as silent as night. Removing a pane after another, he finally got the last of them and stashed the stack of glass at a corner of the room. Freedom was only a window away. He returned to Uryū's side and picked the damaged form with his arms.

"Since when do I listen to you? We're escaping _together_, Ishida."

He swung his leg over the ledge, careful not to bang Uryū's head on the wooden frame and then, with both feet on lush grass of the outside world, he sprinted away from hell.

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Darkness enveloped the two youthful figures as one of them cantered lithely on soft earth. His feet trod on wild weeds and flowers as he forged on urgently, leaving behind sets of footsteps on the ground. Their pursuers, who should be well aware of their absence by now, would probably pick up and trace their tracks with little problems. If the weather was dry, there would not be imprints of his every step. But considering the damp air veiling the atmosphere, he could only wish that they kidnappers were dumb idiots who could not read footsteps to save their lives.

His active motions caused blood to drip on his arms and down to the grass from Uryū's wound. His legs were getting numb. He had not eaten for two days straight, and so had Uryū. This whole thing promised worse outcomes than any battles with the shinigami captain of Soul Society – at least in battles, their limitation were the amount of reiatsu and stamina. Now, their end depended on their luck.

And right now, he was so sure his luck was screwed.

Ichigo pushed all devilish minds away and concentrated on the path ahead. In reality, there were no _proper _paths as the boy had just ran on solid ground that would lead to almost about _anywhere_ but for as far as he cared, he could run to anywhere save for back to the kidnappers' hideout. He might probably stumble across a helpful Samaritan when he came to the main road and then, he could get the other boy to the emergency ward. That better happen.

_Hah, hah, hah, hah…_

Somewhere, a loud tweak of broken twigs shattered the stillness of night. Ichigo stopped to listen. His eyes searched the area for suspicious ill-bringing entities… and at this exact moment, the tail of his eye caught sight of a beam of bronze torchlight.

_Oh, shit._

"Look where you're walkin' you son of…" a fell voice exclaimed from the bushes. The respondent's words were too far away to be heard, but Ichigo was not going to wait for more replies. They were hot on his trails. It looked like they were not a bunch of buffoons after all. He should be more meticulous.

_Shouldn't've left the footprints behind…_

Ichigo gripped Uryū's shoulder more tightly and pressed on warily. He was determined not to step on any stray branches like the idiot over there had. He could not afford to trigger their alarm right now. He had only just gotten away!

A silhouette of something questionable wavered before him at approximately fifty meters apart. Ichigo stilled once more.

"Not here, have you checked over…"

They knew this territory well. They had had him cornered. So far, he could determine one group at the back and this one at the front. Judging by the sound of rustled leaves as the bodily presence moved away to a different coordinate, a group was likely to consist of not more than three. So that leaves a total of four or five more on the loose. Where were they? Left? Right?

_Shit…_

Ichigo got up silently and crept slightly north east to avoid the distant noises. Trees were starting to thicken around this zone which to Ichigo's part was not a liability. They might obstruct the range of his vision but at the same time, they served as great means of concealing their selves. It was not very bright in here but Ichigo was not about to complain.

"Hoi, how about in there?"

"Nah, too dark. The kids won't be able to get out…"

True too. Ichigo could hardly see further than five meters and his body was starting to lose its senses. He continued moving, not wanting to linger too long at the same spot, when a group or two suddenly decided to comb the area anyway. He had only taken seven more paces when he heard another voice calling out from in front, "Not here! Shit, those kids couldn't've gone this far!"

Ichigo scratched his initial intention to move in that direction and turned to his right instead. His heart was not beating the reassuring way – it usually did when he was doing the right thing – but it was definitely a better option than to run headlong into a group.

"Tsk, find properly you guys!"

Ichigo ducked behind a tree trunk. The last complain sounded too close for comfort. Had he just run blindly into an adjacent group? Curse his luck…

His arms trembled from carrying Uryū exceeding his currently shortened limits. He laid the wrecked body delicately on the ground as he leaned heavily against the bark. Every minor occurrence jammed into his stagnant brain – the chirping of nightingales, the hoots of owls, the rumbling of oncoming storm, the slithering of grass snakes perhaps…

His felt his larynx constricted against his will and his Adam apple crushed as a cable wound around his neck from no where. His breaths were cut short, his eyes swam and Ichigo found himself scraping at the foreign wire as his system grappled for air.

"You breathe too noisily, kid."

Ichigo's widened pupils relaxed when something heavy rapped hard on a spot above his spine, reducing him to yet another body of an unconscious captive on the forest ground.

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SPLASH!

Cold tap water splashed on the hunched figure, flattening the obstinate spikes of orangey hues. The boy jerked awake, partially because of the biting cold. Since the wound inflicted by the broken chair did not bother him anymore, he only assumed it had closed up all by itself. Then water seeped painfully into the hidden gash. But it could not measure equivalent to the hurt the leader was causing when he grabbed the back of his hair and yanked it upwards. His hazel eyes bore heatedly into the despicable black ones.

"You think you're smart boy, running away just like that with _that _kid? Think you're strong enough to protect that whelp as well?"

An iron fist collided with the side of his cheekbone. His eyes reeled as his tongue swept over the lining of his cheek gingerly to check for injuries. Copper invaded his taste buds. Ichigo brought himself to look at the kidnapper once more, daring him to punch him in the face once more – like he was about to scream or cry at such antsy pain. The kidnapper however was not looking at him. A woman who wore her long dark hair in a ponytail was reminding him of a "deal", whatever it was. And judging by the facial expression of the leader, he guessed this "talk" would last longer than it should. True enough, they started bickering. Ichigo assessed the new scene he was in and quickly discovered that he was already tied securely to a chair. His limbs were rendered useless again as they had roped them away to the legs and back of the seat. Uryū was no where in sight.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever woman."

He turned to the kidnappers again.

"All right, your father had already banked in the money into the accounts we've told him," the leader said when he noted Ichigo's eyes on him, "We've told him we'll not hurt you as long as he agrees to the deal, see? And we're very much men of our words, kid. So we just have to keep you here for a while until we're sure the coast is clear. You have a good daddy out there, kid," he finished with a spark of anger from God knows where.

"Bring him here."

The woman disappeared from his view only to reemerge from the other side of his eye with the body of a certain raven haired teen. With the passing of the next second, she slammed Uryū's back against the wall, securing him with her hand closed tightly around his neck. She leveled herself with him and twisted her witch-like façade to the leader.

"He's out cold."

"Hn, doesn't really matter now, does it?" came the reply.

Thoroughly unhappy at her captive's condition of unawareness, the woman groped at Uryū's wounded side and watched sadistically at what little respond he could give – a crumpled forehead and a faded gasp. Cold sweat broke on his skin and all colours flushed from his visage.

"LET HIM GO, SWINE!"

"Tsk, just because we promise we won't hurt you doesn't give you the authority to dish out commands, kid. Watch your mouth or I swear you'll get _exactly _what that kid gets."

"Shit, leave him alone! If you kill him, you won't be getting any money from his father!" Ichigo added. He hoped that would be reason enough for them not to harm Uryū any further. At the sound of his words though, all of them started laughing.

"Ceh, you think we still expect money from his father?" the woman asked incredulously. "His father," she spat as she faced the boy within her grasp, "had never once made the effort to contact _us._ So don't you give me crap like 'we won't be getting money if we do him in' because obviously hon, his father doesn't even care. Piece of shit…" she hissed.

She turned with the gleam of malevolence blazing in her head. "Boss, can I chop his legs off? You know, just so he won't escape from us anymore. Heck maybe we can send one to his daddy as souvenir. What d'you think?"

He surveyed Uryū from the top to the edge of his toes. Ichigo saw that the leader was actually _considering _the brutal suggestion of his subordinate.

_Think fast… think fast… got to say something!_

"Tsk, not worth it."

His breath hitched. Had he just heard correctly? Had they cancelled the idea of mutilating Uryū's limbs?

"We'd have to keep him alive after that. We don't have the time and patience to deal with half-dead bastards."

_Oh no… no…don't tell me they're going to…? _

"NO! You can't!"

"Shut up. This isn't your say. One more word from you and I'll take _your _legs away instead."

"Aww boss, come on… You can't say it's not a great idea…"

"No it isn't. It's too much trouble to just keep him alive. And for what? We're not sure if his father is going to pay."

"Tsk, if it's so much trouble, the he's not worth keeping alive. Shall I, boss?"

"NO! Stay away from him!"

The leader handed the woman a penknife from his pocket; he had been flicking with the blade affectionately during their first stay in captivity. He looked at the weapon exchanging hands, watched the lady smiled deviously at the touch of the cold metallic item and witnessed her swift movement in bringing the knife down to pierce Uryū in the heart…

The edge was wedged between the cracks of the brick wall.

"What the…"

She turned to her back.

A man sporting hoary hair and frameless glasses was standing several meters away. His crisply ironed suit stood in contrast with the haphazard background of the kidnappers' lair. In his arms Ishida Uryū was laying horizontally, apparently oblivious to his absolute death should the man tardy a second later. The occupants of the room scrutinised his sharp edges whose resemblance to the hurting form he held was uncanny.

"Ishida… _Ryūken!_"

Suddenly, the matrix they were submerged in felt condensed and heavy. Every breath was difficult, as if they were standing on the peak of the highest mountain where the atmosphere layers were dangerously thin for human's adaptation. Where was the source to this out-of-the-world pressure? _Where?_

_What… immense reiatsu…_

Ichigo scanned the frame of Uryū's saviour. It should be safe to assume that the man was the boy's father but it only raised more questions like how come Uryū had never mentioned of a spiritually aware kin. This amount of reiatsu did not belong to any simple folk either. There certainly was more to Uryū's father than meets the eye.

A flicker of shadow pulled Ichigo to the height of guardedness again.

"You're too late for a rescue mission, oyaji!" the woman screeched, "Here, we are the rules!"

"Don't attempt anything foolish."

The man spoke for the first time pointedly without much effort. His cold eyes penetrated every soul on the ground that just by standing still at the same location, no one was excluded from sensing the pure murderous intent he exerted mysteriously. His aura could almost materialize from his outline but as weird as everything might seem, he looked just like an ordinary man, nothing more.

"The police will be here in a couple more minutes. I advise you to surrender."

The minions whimpered. The leader snatched the knife held limply by the woman and raised it to shoulder height. "DON'T KID WITH ME! I TOLD YOU NOT TO CONTACT THE POLICE!"

And out of the blue, he flung the blade to his right. It was not directed to the talking man who was directly in front of him.

He was aiming for Ichigo.

_Shit… can't move…_

The sharp vertex was about to stick into between his eyes.

Something solid swerved before him, hiding his view from everything except for a billowing black fabric. He heard a _clink! _when the object fell to the ground, having been deflected by something metal-like as well. Ichigo looked up. He recognized the posture of this person standing in front of him.

"Dad…"

The man was still in his rigid stand. "Don't you dare lay a finger on my son."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU BASTARDS?"

There was a crackle and a buzz at the outer compound of the lair. Red and blue lights infiltrated the shadows and the siren of vigilantes' cars illuminated the night. Several doors opened and banged shut before they heard the thudding of armours on the damp ground. Someone was speaking from the speaker.

"You're surrounded by police! Walk out of this building with your arms behind your necks! If you come out here armed, we will not hesitate to open fire! I repeat! You're surrounded…"

"Shit… SHIT! Kill the –"

The intruders and the kidnapped were missing. They rolled their panicky eyes around the space. This was against the law of nature! But it was true. It really was. They were gone.

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"Ishida, this is far enough. At least we can still see the sirens from here."

The silvery haired man came to a rest; his companion halted beside him. Isshin was about to laugh out loud at the memory of the gawping kidnappers. Of course, they would be damned if the gang saw through Ryūken's hirenkyaku and his shunpo. Traveling at high speed no mortal can detect, Ryūken had manipulated this Quincy technique to save Uryū and he, Isshin had used his shinigami's flash steps to sever Ichigo's bonds with his zanpakutō and drag him away.

How could fathers not be worried of their children? Ryūken had been concerned – somewhat – when the letters reached him. Staying staunch to his stiff ways of parenting, he would rather let Uryū to save himself. A man must be able to look after his back. If Uryū failed: "What a shame." He had brought up his only child to be a sissy! Isshin was taking the matter very seriously though. But of course, Isshin had rung him the minute he received the ransom letter and asked if he could borrow a million yen or two. It took the overreacting doctor days to convince the director of Karakura Hospital to come. Even then, the latter had only agreed when he sensed the slowing of his son's reiatsu pulse.

_Pathetic…_

Ryūken lowered both his son and self to the forest floor. Isshin helped prop Ichigo into a sitting position. "Ishida, stay here with your son. I'll go get the police."

Ichigo discerned the quick glance of his father on him and watched the elderly man vanish to the red and blue lights. Now that everything seemed to be all right, his body was finally registering to soreness and tenderness especially at the top of his spinal chord where it got struck by hard objects twice. He blinked away the patches of blackness in his eyes, all the while shooting furtive looks at the Ishida. The sitting man was doing quick medical procedure on Uryū – checking his pulse, removing unwanted materials clinging onto the hideous gash on his side and thumbing trails of blood down his chin.

"_What an ingrate, Ishida. Your dad isn't a monster like you said he is."_

"Here sir! They're here!"

Tramples of a quartet of policemen reverberated in the air. Tall shrubs were pushed aside as the figures marched through them to reach the location implied by Isshin. Ryūken handed his son over to the pair of medical attendant; he helped load the boy onto the stretcher and followed them to the parked ambulance. Isshin however came down on a knee in front of his son and pulled him into a warm embrace.

"Yuzu and Karin missed you! You had gone missing for weeks so they thought a day or two wouldn't matter, then the ransom note came! I almost withdraw your education fund to cover the amount requested, but since I don't really expect you to get scholarships –"

"Ah," Ichigo replied meekly, "miss all of you too."

His cold hand slid down Isshin's arm as weariness wore away his consciousness. Isshin asked for another stretcher from the nearby police personnel, rubbing the boy's arms so as to keep him warm. He too, like Ryūken, accompanied Ichigo into another ambulance which was not taken by Uryū.

_I'm proud of you, son._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Uryū was warded in the intensive care unit for swelling kidneys, broken ribs, superficial cuts and slight anemia from all the blood lost. Ichigo was in the general ward. His concussion was not something to be taken lightly, but under the professional care of Karakura Hospital's responsible staff, he was up and about in almost no time. As the week strolled by, Ichigo was allowed brisk walking around the hospital and Uryū, under the permission of his doctor, was transferred to a general ward too. Much to Ichigo's dismay, he had to share room with the boy.

Ryūken, despite working in the same block, had never once poked his head in his son's ward. Ichigo was beginning to doubt his fatherly affection for Uryū. But he did not want to ask his friend of this, in case all he got was, "Busybody. Go mind your own family business."

Isshin dropped by every evening with Yuzu and Karin, and they both would fill their brother with stories from home, like how their father had accidentally slipped a red bandana into the washing machine loaded with white clothing and how the microwave went "pop" due to whatever stuff he had put into the compartment. Ichigo knew his father would not be that careless out of the sudden, but this may be because of him currently spending the nights in a hospital, or because Kon had started his nasty antics when a certain substitute shinigami was not there to watch over him. Isshin would often prepare two sets of broth for the hospitalized teens – one for Ichigo and the other for Uryū – and the latter would accept his with clumsy thanks.

One evening, Sado and Orihime came for a visit.

"Kurosaki-kun, Ishida-kun, how are you feeling?"

Fortunately, she did not bring any foodstuff for the boys; Uryū did not need admittance into the ICU again. The bubbly girl however did fetch them stories from school (and homework for Uryū) and when they had exhausted all topics, they merely lounged around, appreciating each other's presence in the modest ward.

Uryū was flipping through his text book when he burst out saying, "I'm never walking with you Kurosaki. You're the attracter of evil."

A vein bulged at the orange haired boy's temple.

"Oh yeah? And your dad is the one who opens a hospital. It's starting to get dangerous mingling with rich kid."

"Nose out from my family business, Kurosaki."

"What? Is that how you repay my kindness –"

"What kindness, idiot?"

"You – Ishida you bas –"

Orihime flashed a smile at the huge classmate who was apparently fixated by the scene of his recovering friends clawing at each other. She winked innocently and turned to watch Ichigo waving his fist in front of his bandaged head.

y

"At least we know they're all right, right, Sado-kun?"

Uryū had shut his book and was trying to outdo Ichigo's banters.

"Ah."


End file.
